The Veil
by kristygirl4u
Summary: A one-shot based on the aftermath of Morgause's death. How much it really affected Morgana, something we do not see on-screen.


** This is a one-shot I was randomly thinking, in an attempt to calm the Morgana going crazy in my head. Canon-based characters from a site I am on, tintagelacademy . proboard .com . Kay is Morgana's twin brother, and yes, I know he does not exist as her brother in any version of the legend, but please, no judging. Read and review, please! ^.^**

Not only had the veil torn, but also her heart. As if she had much to begin with. Cold had begun to seep into her since the moment she began to resent Uther with a burning hate.

She wasn't stone-cold yet. She wasn't her sister. Nobody could be her sister. She still had grace, self-respect, and a hunger for revenge. Thirst for vengeance. But what else was there left?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

All her life, she'd only known of grace, beauty, poise, the ridiculous laws of Camelot, and her estranged family.

Family. Ha.

Her sister had been her family. Her brother and twin was somewhere along the lines, but even he had not shared such a bond with her as she did with her sister.

Did. Had. Words of the past. That was how it would always be from now on. Unless, of course, she sacrificed a life to bring her sister back. And she knew how dangerous toying with the devil could be. She would not be willing to sacrifice her brother for her sister.

Well, she would.

But that was beside the point.

The point was that her sister was gone. And she had killed her. Her own sister begged her to plunge a knife through her weak and deteriorating body.

The body that had once been a victim to alluring pieces of clothing, to armor that protected flesh and blood, and to dresses that were made for a princess, certainly. The body that proudly carried a head full of such golden curls that which the sun was surely jealous, and chestnut orbs that glowed only love and compassion for her sister.

This was all gone, of course. A mere memory, if even so. Nothing but a whisper in the wind to which to hang on. A pang of guilt buried deep within. A dark cloud which hung over her head.

And no one understood. As if there were anyone there to understand.

Agravaine acted like the stammering idiot that he was, not even close to slightly aware what this meant, that her sister was gone.

Kay, her twin brother, was convinced that she'd gone mad. If indeed she had, she'd been on that path for a long time now, nothing new. Her sister created this, helped her build to it, even if the creation was now mad.

Indeed, she was mad with anger. With pure hatred, and rushes of insanity. So be it.

But nobody understood. What she had with her sister was a bond so strong that she would never share such a bond with anyone else in her lifetime. Her sister was her everything. Her world, her destiny, her future, her loyalty, and her love. To have taken her sister away, by her own wretched bare hands, it was more than she'd bargained for.

She now had innocent blood upon her head. But should she really? Was it all that innocent?

"You need to go about this rationally, Morgana! You aren't thinking straight!" Kay admonished her.

"What do you know about thinking straight? You are the least straight of them all," Morgana shot right back, clenching her teeth.

Shaking his head, Kay attempted to follow her around the room. "You are ill. You must rest."

She paused to glare at him. "I will not. I will never rest until I sit upon Camelot's throne with a crown placed on my head and my oath said. Rest is for those who are weak. I am anything but."

There was never any point in convincing her otherwise of anything. Though her thoughts were supposed insane by those that were now allied with her, she received enough reassurance from herself.

"She is gone, sister. You cannot drive yourself to insanity because of this one soul-"

"This one soul happened to be my sister, Kay! My flesh and my blood! She was half of what I was! She was a hell of a lot more than that, too!" Morgana's eyes flashed angrily. Her green-blues seemed to turn icy, as her latest talent was. And without the use of magic, too. "I love her more than you could ever understand."

When she continued to pace, Kay could do nothing but watch her. She was impossible to speak with like this. And she knew it.

"Loved," he said thoughtfully.

"Excuse me?"

"You loved her. Not love."

Something surged through Morgana at the correction of her present tense form of the word. It was more than anger. It was magic. She clenched her fists, determined not to blast Kay backwards. Controlling her emotions was important, seeing as how her magic was very well connected with them. But if she was not able to control her emotions, then perhaps her magic could be tamed.

Instead of her brother, Morgana's eyes glowed at a tray with dishes, and she almost smiled when she heard the sound of destruction. Then…calmness.

"I love her presently," Morgana replied to him, almost eerily, with a haunting smile on her lips.

This confused Kay. She knew his sister to be the intelligent one. Why was she suddenly speaking falsities? "Morgause is dead, sister."

"Morgause is _not_ dead. You speak lies, brother. I do not appreciate a lying tongue, and you know it," she replied. It did not take more than a questioning look from Kay to get her to speak again. In fact, she could not look more pleased to talk now. "Morgause is with me. She will always be with me. She is not dead, but is manifested in the air around us, more specifically around me."

She had gone mad now, surely. There was no other explanation. And Morgana appeared to be proud of this new development.

Of course she was. It was as if she had made a new discovery. It was obvious. The only emotions she'd ever truly felt were when Morgause was alive and well. The fact that she was feeling them now could only mean one thing – that her sister was not, in fact dead, but alive.

"Brother, come!" Morgana took his hand. "We must find a way to bring her body back with her spirit!"

But he stubbornly made no step. "No, Morgana. You speak from an insane mind. I will not help you with something you know naught of."

"You dare tell me that I knew not my sister? _That _is spoken from an insane mind." Morgana then let out a giggle, as if she was drunk off of wine and spirits. "If you won't help me, I shall accomplish the task myself. But do not expect to be crowned anything once I am Queen, Kay."

He didn't wish to be crowned a single thing. And Morgana knew it.

Last she'd seen of her brother hadn't been for a few months.

Morgana wasn't mad, nor was she insane. She was distraught and so much in distress that her magic was acting against her. Or was it her emotions? Or perhaps both?

Whatever it was, it didn't un-click from her mind, her genius plans to bring back her sister, until she was deep within the Darkling Woods inside her private and very secluded abode she'd made.

All was so quiet, Morgana couldn't take it. The only thing screaming at her was her own cruel, dark mind, going, _Morgause is dead! Your sister is truly dead! Leave her be!_ Didn't Morgause tell her that the least she could offer was herself? That her body was a final gift for her sister?

It more than she'd ever felt in her entire life. More than her hatred for Uther. More than she wanted the throne. More than she wanted to know her mother.

And out of the very few times she had ever cried in her life, this one was the most painful and agonizing.

Not soon after Morgana closed the door behind her, she felt weak, like she could not stand. Allowing herself to fall on the bed, Morgana gave her tears permission to fall, not giving it a second thought.

Burying her face in her pillow did no good for the screams Morgana let out, and biting down in cloth only barely worked. Every time she looked up from the bed, her magic instantaneously worked, and before long, the entire place was trashed. Nothing was in one piece anymore.

Good. Because even Morgana was torn.

Sliding down the wall with her back against it, Morgana attempted to hurt herself by banging her head backwards as hard as she could, but unfortunately, she didn't knock out. Her face in her hands, she didn't know what to do.

"Morgause…" she moaned, as if somebody had given her a battle wound, a sword right in the chest, where she was hurting now. "Sister."

Even the hot tears rolling down her pale cheeks seemed painful. There was nothing she could do without her sister. Aside from crying, of course, a gesture Morgana never saw as a brave one.

"I hate them!" she screamed viciously as nothing in particular. "I will kill them all!"

Perhaps she had lost her mind, but her destiny was still written, sister or no.

She brushed some hair away that was now sticking to her tears, but her vision was still the same – the dark emptiness that she received as she rested her forehead on her knees, crying and wailing further.

There was, however, an extra hand brushing at her raven locks of hair. Something Morgana failed to notice until a few seconds later. She rapidly lifted her tear-stained face, only to gaze into a pair of chestnut-brown eyes who were looking lovingly right back at her, bent down at the same level as Morgana's.

"Crying never makes one weaker, sister, but stronger," warm words hit Morgana's ears. "Never forget that."

Morgana was unable to get up. Her eyes were now wide, but her lower lip was trembling as more tears spilled over.

That same compassionate hand that often cradled and caressed her cheek, now brushed Morgana's tears away with the thumb. Then, surely enough, her hand rested upon Morgana's cheek, and the only thing Morgana could do was to desperately kiss the hand.

"Come back," Morgana whispered, her voice cracking as she tried to say it louder.

The slender form stood up after tenderly kissing Morgana's cheek, smiling affectionately at her. Morgana gripped at the soft hand, but the other freed herself from the grasp.

"Come back," Morgana urged, far more severely now.

But the chestnut eyes only continued glancing both warmly and sadly as she turned towards the door.

"Come back!" Morgana cried out, reaching out for the graceful blonde-haired beauty striding away. "Come back! Come back!" Her heart was beating loudly. "Morgause!" The blonde merely turned her head, her hand still on her door knob, door halfway open. "Come back," she whispered again.

"I love you, Morgana. My dear, my sweet sister," the red-enveloped blonde answered, so calmly and peacefully, that the voice seemed to be the wind's.

The door closed, and Morgana was still sitting where she had been the entire time. For a moment, she expected the door to open again, but it didn't. And suddenly, reality just hit her even harder.

"Come back! Please, come back!" Morgana kept screaming hysterically.

No one came back. Especially not Morgause. No one would hear her cries, her desperate pleas. No one would understand, for no one could.

Her sister, her loving and charming sister, her world…What had she done?

A veil had indeed torn into two. The thin sheet inside of her, claiming to be her heart. It was now torn into two.


End file.
